


The one I come home to

by Whiskeyjack



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6763999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskeyjack/pseuds/Whiskeyjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmure finds comfort in his wife's arms. </p><p>Spin-off fic from Tumblr rp events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one I come home to

**Author's Note:**

> I've debated posting this for a while, but since the show seems to be blatantly ignoring Edmure, I decided to just share this Edmure thing that I had. This fic is a spin off I wrote after certain events in a now defunct zombie apocalypse AU asoiaf rp on Tumblr. For reference, this was written in January 2012.
> 
> There are some mentions of said events at the start of the fic, but the basic gist of it is Edmure saved Dany from a pack of zombies and is taking her back to the commune run by Cersei, but Dany seduces him in the back of his van in an attempt to escape. (She doesn't.)

He’s dirty - probably stinks of blood and sweat - and bone-tired too. After what had felt like far too long, they had found the Targaryen girl and brought her back. _And somehow she ended up seducing me in the back of my own van._ He shakes his head at the thought, as if the action might dispel or erase what he’d done. The thought of it chewed on the back of his mind, gnawing away like a parasitic worm, and he knew the act would one day come back to hit him hard - if not from Baelish, then from Dany herself. His shoulders felt heavy, and not just from the tiredness that had sunk in.

He heads toward the communal showers, eager to get under a faucet and maybe lie down somewhere. _Shut your eyes and wish it had never happened_ \- no, he isn’t naive enough to think that anymore. All he wants to do now was run away and pretend nothing happened, but he knew he’d have to face up to it eventually.

But he didn’t expect ‘eventually’ to be ‘right now’. Roslin was seated on a bench outside the shower room, legs pressed together and hands braced on the wood of the seat, as if she was a schoolgirl waiting for her love to meet her. She sees him approach and immediately her face lights up, and she waves to him. Edmure manages a weak smile, and waves back, but his heart is sinking. He hasn’t seen her in nearly a week, and the guilt that was in the back of his mind comes rushing forward, but he tries his best to mask it. He’s never been a very good liar, and if anyone could see through his fibs it would be her.

“Hey.” He says softly, not daring to say more.

“Hey yourself.” She smiles shyly, a hand reaching up to brush his cheek. Edmure sighs and leans into her touch, his hand coming up to meet hers, gripping it gently. Roslin giggles a little from the contact. “If you weren’t so sweaty I would give you a big hug.”

He has to grin at that. “Hold that thought.” Dropping his backpack on the bench, he pulls out some clean clothes and heads inside.

The shower area is deserted - unsurprising, considering the time of night - but because of the hour, he’d probably have to grit his teeth and clean himself with cold water. Not the most pleasant of things, surely, but he’d been through worse. He dumps his clothes on the floor unceremoniously, turns on the water and tries not to think about how cold it is as he walks under it. There is a single bar of soap - half-used, a scentless affair - and he is careful to scrub all the dirt and and residue out from under his fingernails.

A few minutes later he’s done, and dries himself off quickly - he doesn’t want to keep his wife waiting outside for long anyway. Despite his guilt over what he’d done the day before, he still loved her, but he didn’t know how she would react should she found out what he’d done. Given her nature, she might - just might - forgive him, but if she left he certainly would not blame her.

As he comes out of the room, she greets him at the door, and gives him that hug she promised earlier. “Oh, Ed. I missed you.” She rests her head against the crook of his neck, and there is something about her warmth that just makes him feel at home. He nuzzles his chin on her forehead, his rough stubble scraping against it, and she giggles again from the sensation, hitting him lightly on the shoulder to make him stop.

“I missed you too, Ros.” He says, and it’s only half a lie - he did miss her. _I even tried to think of her while_ \- he couldn’t bring himself to complete the thought. She wraps her arms around his neck and reaches up on tiptoes for a kiss, and he meets her halfway. Their breaths mingle as they sigh into each other, and Edmure realizes _yes_ , gods he did miss her. But that just makes his guilt an even heavier burden to bear.

“Sam fell asleep waiting up for you.” She says as the break apart, twining her fingers around his, finding comfort in familiarity. Edmure picks up his bag and they walk back to the tiny room on the grounds they called home. It was small, cramped, and sparse, yes, but it might have been considered luxurious by others who took refuge on the hospital’s grounds. Cersei Lannister might not have been known for her philanthropic nature, but with the vast number of people in that safe zone alone, she was making do with what she had to work with.

Their walk back is quiet. Edmure doesn’t say anything, but somehow he senses that Roslin has picked up that something is wrong. It’s something in the way her fingers are curled around his tensed arm, how she glances at him with concerned eyes when she doesn’t think he’s looking, how she’s not asking how the assignment went the way she usually does.

They reach the room, and she unlocks the door for them to enter, the room lit with a tiny nightlight beside Sam’s cot. He’s not a baby any more, but the outbreak brought his fear of the dark back with a vengeance. He sets his things down as quietly as he can, so he doesn’t wake the boy.

Before he can head to the bed - _just lie down and sleep and forget everything_ \- Roslin reaches up and pulls him down for a kiss, and it’s not gentle like their last one, but desperate. Edmure can almost feel her entire being straining for _him_ , because they’ve been apart for so long and he’s hardly been around; and when he is he’s always tired and she always respects that he needs his rest, but now she just can’t hold herself back anymore.

He sucks in a breath, drawing her in with everything he’s got, his hands moving up her arms and into the sleeves of her shirt. The guilt is chewing in his mind again, and his chest aches just from touching her like this - _you wouldn’t be doing this if you knew what I’ve done, I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve your love_ \- but he drives it down, focusing instead on the feel of her to make him forget, if just for a moment.

Breaking apart abruptly, he leans down to grab her leg, and she hops up into him, arms supported around his shoulders. He carries her over to their bed - not a very long distance, but he does it with ease - and sets her down albeit roughly. She squeaks softly as she falls, cautious so as not to make too much noise. He takes his shirt off quickly, and leans over her to claim her mouth again, fingers threading through her soft brown hair. She moans softly against him, fingers leaving faint red marks across his back as she clings on to him - as if her life depended on it - and he breathes back into her, just as desperate now. There is a familiarity here that wasn’t present with Dany - and how can there be? - but he is glad of it now.

Roslin’s knee moves up to brush against the growing bulge in Edmure’s pants, and he has to bite back a groan. His hands move easily up her shirt, over soft skin, over her breasts, and they mould easily into his palms. His lips kiss a trail down her neck to suck at the hollow in her collarbone, and she gasps, arching up into him. “I need you, Ed.” she whispers softly into his ear, and he responds by nipping at her neck, tugging the shirt up over her head.

His mouth closes around a pert nipple as her hands reach forward to tug his pants down, both moaning softly from the feel of the other. Her fingers run lightly over his erection, stopping to linger at the tip, glistening and wet, and she teases the head gently. Edmure growls deep in his throat, tongue flicking over a nipple, but he breaks away for a moment to help them both out of their clothes.

She turns for a moment to glance over at Sam’s cot, checking if he is still asleep - and Edmure looks back too - but he is still, clutching his stuffed shark. He gives her an almost devious smile, and pulls her pants off completely, chucking them somewhere they probably will have trouble finding later. Positioning himself between her legs, he bites his bottom lip, and bracing himself on his arms, leans forward to catch her lips with his. A hand comes down to lift her leg up, and in one swift motion he enters her smoothly.

Roslin gasps from the sudden weight inside her, and swallows down a moan as Edmure’s breath ghosts over her neck. She is wet and pulsing around him, and makes squeezing motions as she brings her legs up to wrap around his waist. He grunts from the sensations, gritting his teeth so all the noise he makes are as quiet as possible, and slowly moves inside her, savouring the feel of it.

Her hips move up to meet his thrusts, building a slow rhythm, seeking comfort in familiarity. The bed makes vague squeaking noises, but otherwise the room is silent, and the effort it takes not to just fuck her loudly is making him grit his teeth till his jaw hurts. But there is a certain feeling from not making any noise at all, that makes it more intense, making him enjoy it all the more. He lets out a strangled gasp as her leg shifts higher, changing the angle at which he comes in, deeper. He has to brace a hand on it so she won’t slip, but all that is going through his mind is _god, yes, she feels so good._

Their breaths are coming in small pants now, and her fingers are gripping on to his shoulders as he quickens the pace. “Ed- Ed-” she whimpers, and he bears his lips down upon hers as he feels her clenching around him. He’s not far himself, the coil at the bottom of his spine tightening from every movement, and with a few more thrusts it snaps, an explosion of white behind his eyelids as he groans softly and releases inside her. Her hand runs down his back gently, almost soothing as his chest heaves heavily from the exertion.

He leans against her heavily, shuddering slightly, just savouring the feel of being inside her for just a little longer. Roslin kisses his ear, pulling his head down to cradle it in her shoulder. “I love you, Ed.” she whispers quietly, tiredness already seeping into her voice. He smiles against her, knowing she can feel him do it, and rubs his chin against her jaw, making her giggle.

“I love you too.” he says, but it tears him apart to say even, even though he means it with all his heart.

They roll over to the side, and she stretches herself across him, pulling him out gently. It is still wet in between her thighs, but she is already dozing off against his shoulder. “Hey, Ed.” he hears her mutter, face buried against him.

“Yeah?”

“You can tell me anything. You know that right?”

Edmure’s heart skips a beat. The muscles in his back tense a little, and he hopes she didn’t feel that. “Yeah.”

“Mmm okay.” she mumbles in reply, and is asleep in a few moments.

And even though Edmure is so tired - from everything - sleep eludes him. He rests his head against hers, arms encircling her, and when he closes his eyes he only has his guilt to keep him company.


End file.
